True Nature
by CatherineLadybug
Summary: Relationships have always been difficult for Lois Lane. After another relationship heads south, Lois Lane finds comfort in an unexpected place, her cousin's old love--Clark Kent. But a single night of mistakes, leads to a future of expected regrets.
1. Prologue

Prologue

"We can't do this anymore," she says. She is breathing hard, her breath hitting the cold night hair. Lois is climbing off of him, reaching for her robe.

He knows that they must stop this. He knows because his gut is wrenching at the thought of Lana. It is turning and convulsing at the thought of his dreams; of what he might feel if those dreams were to slip away forever. "Yeah." And nothing more needed saying.

She is hugging herself. The chill of the night air, coming from the window he left open, causing goose bumps to break out along her skin. The night is deafening and the tension is rising. "It has to stop."

"I know." He is saying it in growing irritation. He does not want to leave.

"Good." She is saying it in a similar tone. She too, does not want him to leave.

Both are standing there, on opposite sides of the room, covered and decent, staring and contemplating. Their eyes are speaking volumes and nonverbal lashings are exchanged with great fire. Neither wanted it to come to this.

"Good." Clark finds himself saying it with finality. He is taking long strides towards the door.

Lois is not moving. Her feet are nailed to the floor as she shivers.

The door slams and she is left wondering. She is left to her thoughts.

And what evil thoughts spring upon her. They wash away her rational, her sense and logic. When she is alone, as when others are alone, she begins to analyze her situation. She plays out every scenario, every movement and breathe. But especially, especially the touches. _His_ touches. Because her skin still burns, still tingles with a cold heat that only drives her more insane. And she knows, it won't go away until he touches her again; until his voice wraps around her like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer; until his cologne baths her in comfort and warms her veins; until his kiss warms her soul and relaxes her mind; until she can relax in his arms and let her past day's beating unhinge from her shoulders. When this happens, she knows this awful tingle will leave her.

And just like this time, just like last time and all the times before it, she will feel the sinking guilt of cruelty spring back upon her shoulders. Her neck will tighten and her veins will run wild. Her heart will stand-on-end and nothing will seem real. Because only _he _can make it go away.

Her phone is now ringing. It is not _Whitesnake_, signaling Clark's call. She shouldn't feel what she feels, knowing that it is not Clark. She shouldn't be feeling disappointment.

No, she should be feeling happiness. Because on the other line is Grant, her boyfriend.

She should be feeling happiness, not disappointment.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

His life was finally coming together: Lana was still alive, her beautiful face still holding him captive; his mother in Washington D.C., changing the world into a better place; Chloe was beginning to come to grips with her powers; Lex Luthor was beginning to slow down his ridiculous quest for the ultimate army; Kara was settling down and coping with her new home and Lois—well, Lois was _still_ being Lois. Clark had a feeling that would never change.

He frowned. He couldn't actually remember the last time he saw Lois. It had to have been a month or two, possibly more. He wasn't even sure she was living above the Talon any longer.

Clark lifted the bale of hay out of the truck. The sharp wire would have cut into his fingers if he weren't Kryptonian. That was his life, full of _ifs_.

"Clark!" He turned and saw Lana smiling. She was walking towards him, holding a cup of water in her right hand. He wasn't all that thirsty but how could he deny her?

"Hey," he said. He greeted her with a warm smile, his ruffled hair falling over his eyes.

She touched his arm, her fingers stroking the fabric. Clark loved it when she did this. "Clark, I missed you this morning. Where were you, sweetie?" Her dark brown eyes were large and questioning. Her eyebrows were itched in hurt.

_Why?_ he thought. "I just wanted to get a head start on the chores."

Her face contoured into a smile. "Oh."

"Why?"

She shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I just woke up cold, that's all." Her gazed dropped down from his eyes, roaming down his chest and stomach. "I'm still really cold." She let go of his hand and turned back to the house. Seductively, she whispered over her shoulder, "I could use some warming up."

Clark smiled as she walked away. Five years ago he never would have pegged Lana as the naughty type; now Clark knows that he is wrong.

He pulled the gloves off and wiped his hands on his jeans. He caught her before she even hit the porch steps, the squeal she elicited exciting him even more. "What did you say about warming you up?" His hand was splayed across her belly, his thumb stroking circles around her navel.

"Hmm," he purred. "Yeah, I'm _real_ cold." Her hands were above his head, wrapped around his neck. "I love it when you're behind me."

"Yeah?" His hand reached under her shirt, his pinky dipping just below the waistline of her jeans.

"Clark, not out here."

They were still on the porch, breathing hard and twitching subtly. "I know. It'll be exciting." He pulled her shirt up a little further, exposing the top of her abdomen. Clark could see the bottom of her bra in the reflection of the window—his pants got a little tighter.

Her hands stopped him. "Not out here." She was forceful in her request.

Clark's hands ceased. He dropped them and backed away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push." His head was hung low.

Lana took a step forward, raising her hand to cup his cheek. "It's okay. You were onl—"

"Smallville?"

Clark turned around to see Lois getting out of her car. "Damn." He whispered to himself. When Lana chuckled at his antics, he couldn't help but join her. He turned around, removing his big frame from blocking Lana. "Lois, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lois looked up, surprised to see Lana. "Oh, Lana. Didn't see you there. What, with Smallville's ogre-like body shape I couldn't see around him." Lois stopped in front of the pair, keeping her gaze on Lana. "It's good to see that you're alive, Lana." Her gaze turned to Clark. "Smallville here grabbed my ass in sorrow."

Clark could feel the accusatory stare burning holes into his face. "Lois! What _are _you doing here?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her down the stairs. "We'll be in, in a minute, Lana."

Lana gritted her teeth. "Okay, _sweetie_."

When he heard the door slam, Clark turned on her. "What do you _need_, Lois?"

"I'm sorry I interrupted your bunny-rumping Smallville, but I need your help on a story."

"Bunny-rumpi—" This woman was infuriating. "Lois, Lana and I were…" He really didn't want to be talking to her about this. "We were talking."

Lois' grin grew wider. "Right… that's believable. You are a terrible liar, Clark." She opened the file in her hand. "I tell you, it's a good thing you aren't an alien 'cause that secret would have been blown a _long_ time ago." Lois didn't see the smile that crossed his face, she was too buried in the folder.

"Let's just get this over with, okay? I still have chores to finish and—"

"—babies to make. Yeah, don't worry, I'll have you home before Lana starts howling at the moon." She turned back to her car. "Get in."

She was much more than infuriating.

The sound of the road was helping Clark stay calm. He didn't mind it so much that Lois needed his help, she was his friend after all. What he did mind was her tactfulness—or lack thereof. He droned his fingers across the armrest; he caught Lois giving him a stare. He smiled, giving it right back as he continued to drone his fingers. "This isn't bothering you, is it Lois?"

He smiled when she bit down on her molars. "Not at all." She muttered through clenched teeth. Her eyes stared back at the road.

"Where is it we're going?"

His head turned from his side window to look at her when she didn't respond. He saw the wide grin she was sporting and didn't like what was happening right away. "I know that smile. I hate that smile." He looked back across the road. "Where are we going?"

She rolled her eyes but the smile stayed. "No where, Clarkie. Just be patient."

"I usually am when I know _you_ aren't the brains of the operation."

She clutched her chest with one hand. "I'm hurt, Smallville, that you have so little faith in me."

"My ass you are." He turned his gaze to his window.

"While we are on the subject of your ass, I was wondering, is it still in good shape?"

Clark stiffened. The color drained from his face and all the blood rushed to his toes. He went white and cold in an instant.

The reason? He could feel the smirk, the mirth and glee in her voice. She only got that way, ever, around anyone, when she was either after a big story or in the process of torturing him. Now, it seemed, she was doing both.

He whipped around to face her. "No!"

"What?" she asked innocently.

"No! Whatever it is, I won't do it." He pointed at her, gave her a stern look that didn't faze her the least.

"Oh, come on, Clark. You have a great butt. Actually, one of the best butts I've ever seen. Yes, I have a boyfriend, and yes I thought about asking him, but it would never work. He could never pull it off. You're the only one I know that can."

"Lois…" He was whining now. He knew it was unattractive but hell, it was just Lois. And he _really_ didn't want to do this.

"Look, it will all be evened out. You will have seen me strip-dance and now I will—"

"Strip-dance?!" She saw him reach for the door handle. Lois reached down and found the lock button, locking him in. When it didn't work, he turned back to face her. "Lois! No! I will not do it!" He turned back and tried the handle again. He considered breaking it off but thought better of it. "You can't make me!"

"I know, but Clark…"

"But Clark nothing. I'm not doing it." She pulled up in front of the club. "It's the middle of the afternoon, too. Talk about sleazy." He sat back and crossed his arms. His chin hit his chest. He was pouting.

She gripped his chin. "Come on, honey. I need this." She turned her eyes mopey and her lips quivery. "Please."

He hated it when she did that. Besides him, she did it well, he was told. She wasn't known for it, not like he was, but she had it down all the same. "Don't look at me like that."

"Please, I want to impress Gabe."

Clark's understanding eyes found Lois' sorrowful ones. "You shouldn't need a story to impress him, Lois. If he is only going out with you because you can bring home stories, you should look elsewhere. You're more than a work-horse."

"And you're more than a farm-boy but I don't see you trying to be more, looking for more outside of Lana." He expected a sharp snap from her. She wasn't the type that wanted pity. Or just a friend who understood, who thought more of her.

They both paused, looking deep inside each other. Lois was still clutching his arm when his eyes left hers and looked down. "I'm going to need my arm back to do this."

Her eyes brightened. "So you'll do it?"

He sighed as he reached for the door. "I'll try."


End file.
